


Hang On and Survive

by shayera



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Gen, Missing Scene, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 13:17:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13190904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shayera/pseuds/shayera
Summary: Gideon gets a chance to talk to Ford during their time in Bill's Fearamid.





	Hang On and Survive

Gideon danced.

His feet ached, his heart beat like a sledgehammer and his arms felt like lead, but no matter how he tried, he couldn’t stop. Bill wasn’t even in the throne room any longer, but Gideon’s body had a mind of its own, obeying the demon’s commands. It was slowly starting to dawn on him that Bill might have been literal about telling him to dance for all eternity.

He’d scream, but for once the last thing he wanted was attention. The dance was embarrassing enough without the walking nightmares actively laughing at him. It was like a curse out of a fairy tale, painful and humiliating and completely and utterly unheroic. Why did he have to listen to Dipper Pines today of all days? As if standing up to a chaos god would make any difference at all, or would allow him to go down like some kind of hero worthy of love and adoration. It certainly didn’t. This was nothing but ridiculous pathetic forced cuteness with no end in sight. He’d rather die than have Mabel see him like this. In fact, he’d rather die than dance like this forever even if Mabel didn’t see him, but he didn’t seem to have any choice in the matter.

He flinched – without missing a beat in the dance – when the giant golden triangle reentered the room from a side passage, though Bill didn’t even glance in the direction of Gideon’s cage. The demon was holding the end of a glowing blue chain in one hand, the other hand waving for his henchmaniacs. The throne made from petrified humans hid whatever was on the other end of the chain from Gideon’s view, but the way Bill held it made it seem like a leash.

“Hey guys!” Bill said, his unearthly voice as chipper as ever. “My old friend here has the key to unlock the full armageddon on the universe, but he’s reluctant to give it to me. What do you say we all get creative on him?”

As he was talking, he pulled the prisoner into view. It was a greying man in a beige trenchcoat, shackled by the neck and wrists by the glowing chain. As Bill pulled on the chain again the man stumbled, his left leg folding under him, and he was unceremoniously dragged along the floor for the last few feet. Gideon couldn’t see his face, but he thought he could hear his labored breathing even over his own.

Bill turned around and looked down on his victim. “Think about it, IQ,” he said. “It’s not too late to change your mind.” He only waited a couple of seconds for a reply, and when none came he dissolved the chain and threw the man up on the seat of the throne. Gideon could clearly hear the strangled cry of pain as he landed on the uneven stone. A moment later the chain reappeared, this time only cuffing his left ankle, like an afterthought to keep him from escaping.

The man groaned and curled up on himself, but Bill paid him no more heed as he left to talk to his demon henchmen some distance away. Gideon went completely ignored, but even so, he was still dancing. He wished there was something he could say to the other prisoner, but he couldn’t think of a single thing. He remained quiet and watched.

The man below took a deep breath and struggled to get up to a sitting position, like he was trying to salvage some small part of his dignity. He ended up resting his forehead against his knees. It was obvious from the way he moved that he’d been badly manhandled already, and it made Gideon uneasy. This person must have annoyed Bill even worse than Gideon himself had managed to do. He wasn’t sure if it was sympathy or comiseration or what it was, but Gideon somehow felt bad for him.

Eventually the man raised his eyes towards the sound of Gideon’s tapping feet, revealing a dirty red turtleneck sweater, cracked glasses, and a bruised but very familiar face.

Gideon gasped. He didn’t know why he’d expected it to be a stranger – perhaps because he didn’t recognize the trenchcoat – but seeing this particular face right now was a shock.

“Stanford Pines!?”

Stanford blinked as if trying to get Gideon into focus. “Yes, that’s me.” Something in the cadence of his voice seemed wrong, but perhaps that was just the result of the way he’d been treated.

“What does Bill even want with you, old man!?” How deep down the rabbit hole did Stanford Pines’ secrets go? Gideon _hated_ Stanford Pines, but right now he could barely remember why. When you’re prisoners of an insane chaos god bound to torment you both for the rest of eternity, everything else suddenly seemed petty. He was the closest to a friend Gideon might ever see again.

Stanford winced, then sighed. “Weirdmageddon has been deterred by a natural weirdness barrier around the Gravity Falls valley,” he explained. “I know how to disable the barrier, but I won’t let Bill cause the end of our universe if I can help it.” He grimaced and added with more than a hint of bitterness, “He likes me for my brain.”

“Dang.” Now that sounded positively heroic, even if it filled Gideon with dread. Bill could do anything. Anything at all. Stanford was just an old man, he wouldn’t stand a chance. If Gideon’s body hadn’t been hijacked by a dancing curse he might have tried to think of something wittier to say, but right now he was too exhausted to be anything but completely honest, and if Stanford’s uncharacteristically straightforward answer was any indication, he felt the same way. “I always suspected you were more clever than you looked, with the way you outsmarted me last time and all, but I never wanted—”

Stanford’s face shot back up towards Gideon. “Wait, what?”

The old man’s confused tone made Gideon shut up. “Wait what, what?” he replied, flummoxed.

Stanford squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again. “Alright, I see what’s going on here. You must be mistaking me for my brother. That only makes sense.” He held up his right hand, making Gideon aware that something was off with it – and not just the fact that several of his fingers were discolored purplish red and bent in unnatural directions. It looked hideously painful. “The most obvious difference between us is the number of fingers.”

Gideon’s eyes widened. He’d only seen a six-fingered hand once before. “But... Does that mean... _You’re_ the author of the journals? Are you?”

The man who might or might not be Stanford Pines smiled weakly. “You’ve read my work, too?”

“I certainly did! I read it backwards and forwards and used it for all sorts of things. Honestly I don’t think much good ever came of it even if I loved it at the time.” He stopped to breathe, then continued because he needed to say this, and if this man really wrote the journals he might even be able to understand. “I summoned Bill, too, twice, if you’ll believe it. I think… I think this whole apocalypse business might actually be my fault.” There. He’d put words to it. It was the nagging guilt that had been the final drop making him turn against Bill, and see where that had gotten him.

The man sighed again. “I’m afraid that honor belongs to me and no one else. And it seems my only other legacy in Gravity Falls has been the corruption of children. I’m sorry – I should never have allowed those journals to be found.”

Fair enough, probably. It still didn’t seem quite right. “He just seemed so reasonable. In the beginning. It all seemed to make sense at the time! I guess he tricked me.”

“You and me both, child.”

They were silent for several heartbeats, the only sound being Gideon’s shuffling dance moves and panting breath and a few raspy coughs from the man below. “Where did you come from, anyway?” Gideon asked. “I never knew Stanford Pines had a twin brother.”

Stanford’s twin scoffed. “ _I’m_ Stanford Pines.”

“If you’re Stanford, then who’s the old man with the fez?”

“He’s my twin brother, Stanley. He took my name and identity when I fell into an interdimensional portal thirty years ago.”

“Oh.” Gideon grimaced. He didn’t know what else to say. It occurred to him that Stanford – Stanley? – might have been a conman out of his league after all.

“Exactly.” Stanford raised his broken hand again in Gideon’s general direction. “Greetings, my name is Stanford Pines. Please call me Ford. I’d shake your hand, but I don’t think either of us can reach that far right now. What’s your name?”

“I’m Gideon. Gideon Gleeful.”

“Nice to meet you, Gideon.”

It didn’t even matter who he was, did it? This “Ford” might have six fingers and a might have written the journals and might be a complete stranger, but he was still the closest Gideon had to a friend right now. “It’s not nice!” he blurted. “Bill is dang near omnipotent and we both know he’s going to hurt you for that information and look at me, he put a freaking curse on me to dance cute dances for all of eternity!”

“Yes, I noticed. I wasn’t going to mention it.”

Gideon wasn’t sure if that was polite or insufferable. “Everything is horrible! How can you be so calm?”

Ford lowered his eyes. His shoulders sank visibly, but it was several moments before he said anything. “I’m not,” he finally admitted. “I’ve been through some bad things before, but... Bill means business this time.” He flexed his broken hand slightly, shuddering. “I can take it, though. I have to.”

“You could just give him what he wants,” Gideon found himself saying. “We’re all done for anyway! He could _torture_ you for all _eternity_ , and maybe it’s better to just let everything end. You know?”

Ford’s shoulders shook, but Gideon couldn’t tell if he was laughing or crying. Possibly both. “No,” he managed. “Don’t you think I’ve considered that? But it’s never better to give up.” He took a deep breath and looked up at Gideon again. “Sometimes all you can do is to hang on and survive and bide your time until a chance opens up. I’m not about to let the world end unless I’m absolutely certain all hope is lost.”

“But what hope could there possibly—?”

Ford glanced over to the other end of the room. Gideon followed his gaze and noticed that the demons seemed to be wrapping up their conversation. Bill was turning his eye back towards the throne. They were running out of time.

“I’m sorry you’ll have to see this,” Ford said. His voice was shaking slightly.

Bill was already towering over them. Gideon swallowed. His arms were still waving around, but he could barely feel them anymore.

“Hey Fordsy,” Bill said. “I’m giving you one last chance to let me in your mind with no harm no foul. What do you say? Give me a tour for old times’ sake?”

“No! Never.”

“Stubborn as always, Sixer. Let’s see how long you’ll keep that up. We have forever here – time is dead and meaning has no meaning, remember?”

With that, more glowing chains appeared and attached themselves to Ford’s ankles, wrists and neck, lifting him spread-eagled into the air. For a moment he glared defiantly at Bill, who glared back with as close to a smirk as a triangle with a single eye and no other facial features could manage. Then the demons got to work.

Gideon would have looked away if he could. If his limbs had been his own, he would have curled up in the far end of the cage, covering his ears and squeezing his eyes shut, and he knew the screams _still_ would have pierced his heart and mind.

They tore Ford’s body to shreds. They put it back together only to do it again in a different way. Bones broken, limbs pulled out of joints, blood and guts spilling from open wounds. Fire and electrical currents on unprotected skin. Time and again Bill would take a break and ask in a reasonable tone if Ford wanted it to end.

He refused every time.

Gideon danced.


End file.
